


not so silent night

by impossiblepluto



Series: have yourself a fluffy, whumpy christmas [6]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Concussions, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21600607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: have yourself a fluffy, whumpy christmas [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552330
Comments: 29
Kudos: 129





	not so silent night

The room is bathed in a warm glow from the Christmas tree in the corner. Music gently croons from the old modified record player, songs about home and family, snow and love. The scene is soft. Peaceful. 

Mac stares intently ahead of him, eyes squinting, lips parted. The blanket Jack draped over him earlier pooling around his waist and sliding to the floor.

Encouragement to lay back down on the couch and rest is ignored. No matter how many times Jack tucks him in, or suggests he goes to bed, moments later he's sitting up again, fingers playing with loose threads. Rubbing tired eyes.   
  
Right now, his eyes are fixed ahead of him, focused like there's a problem he needs to solve, like mathematical equations are written in the air in front of him. Jack sighs. It's been a long afternoon. The last glow of sunshine is fading away.

"How are you doing that?" 

Jack leans forward in the easy chair, exchanges a look with Bozer who's clanging pots in the kitchen, before turning his gaze back on Mac. His pupils blown wide in the dim lighting. 

"Doing what, kiddo?" 

"The lights," he replies, awe in his tone. 

"Ah, well," Jack frowns, scooting over to the couch since Mac is refusing to lie down again. "Something about electricity, currents, and filaments. Shouldn't you know all that stuff better'n me, Einstein?" Jack says, reaching over and brushing blond hair from Mac's forehead. Worry written on his face at Mac's apparent increasing confusion. "Can you look over here for a minute?"

"Edison, not Einstein," Mac corrects, absently. Ignoring Jack's request and gently reaches out like he's trying to coax a butterfly to land on his fingers. "Not that though. How are you making them all soft and blurry?"

"I think that's your concussion, bud."

"Oh, I thought it was Bozer." Mac relaxes back against the couch with a sigh, rubbing his eyes again.

"Is it buggin' your eyes? We can turn 'em off."

"No, 't's pretty," Mac yawns. He leans, resting his head against Jack's shoulder. Searching for comfort in a way he only does when he's sick or hurting. Letting down his guard. Giving up control. 

Jack carefully maneuvers them so Mac is reclined further, and his arm is around Mac's back, rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder. 

"You sure it's not Bozer?" 

"Pretty darn."

Mac hums. He shifts under Jack's arm, turning his head just enough to look up at Jack, frowning like he doesn't believe him.

"You took a pretty good knock to your noggin'," Jack reminds, meeting Mac's glazed eyes. "Scattered your chickens and you had a hell of a time corralling them again." Jack holds Mac a little tighter, his heart starts pumping faster at the memory. "I don't think you managed to collect them all yet. They're up there," Jack gently taps Mac's temple with one finger. "Causing a ruckus, tangling with the hamster wheels." 

Mac's lips quirk with a puzzledbut delighted at the mental image Jack's words conjurefrown. "I don't have chickens, Jack."

Jack draws a hand through Mac's shaggy hair. 

_"If you've got the guy on the right, I can take care of the other four," Jack says, peering over Mac's shoulder, to use the homemade periscope Mac concocted to survey the room._

_"The other four?" Mac scoffs with a teasing smile._

_"Well since whoever's done first gets to handle the explosives, thought I'd try to skew those odds in your favor."_

_"Aw, you're always thinking of me."_

_"Merry Christmas, Mac."_

_Mac chuckles. "Alright. Go on three."_

_And with a burst of adrenaline Jack kicks through the door. It thuds against the wall louder than a flashbang grenade. The men have just enough time to whirl around, startled at the noise before Mac and Jack descend on them._

_With his first blow, Jack swings for the fences. The unsuspecting man doesn't have time to register what hit him before his eyes roll back, and the first knockout goes to Jack._

_The element of surprise is gone, he's grappling with the other goons while keeping a watchful eye on Mac._

_An efficient one-two punch and Mac sends his opponent reeling, collapsing to the floor and Jack feels a rush of pride._

_Mac smirks at him, shaking out his punching hand before sprinting for the bomb components on the table, prying plastic explosives away from detonators and stripping wires._

_"Who else is dreaming of a Silent Night," Jack asks slamming the next guy's head against his knee, then gently patting the man's face before letting him slide to the floor._

_"No one is dreaming of a Silent Night," Mac calls back, not turning from his task._

_"Maybe you're not," Jack yells, distractedly trying to knock together the heads of his two other opponents that he's mentally named Harry and Marv. "But that's the only thing on my Christmas list this year, dude. One day at home, no missions, no kidnappings, no pastrami related accidents. Just drinking spiked hot chocolate in front of your tree."_

_Mac's laugh turns to a startled cry. Large hands grab the collar of his shirt, twisting. A new thug, a behemoth has entered the fray, moving stealthily despite his size, sneaking up on him. Mac gasps, reaching back and scratching at the hands holding him, kicking a leg behind, hoping to connect with the mountain of a man and break the hold. Instead, Mac's foe keeps him off balance and uses the momentum of Mac's futile kick to toss him, spinning him across the room._

_Feet stumbling, tripping over each other, Mac tries to regain his equilibrium. A stutter and a trip and his body thuds against the pillar in the middle of the room. Head snapping back. A hollow clunk echoes as Mac slides down the wall to the floor, eyes glassy._

_An enraged bellow comes from Jack as he observes the uneven fight, unable to move to Mac, unable to help._

_The brute who has a good fifty pounds of muscle on Jack is stalking towards Mac. Raising his fist._

_"Mac!" Jack yells. With a burst of adrenaline and he smashes together the back of Marv's head to Harry's forehead with a sickening crunch, and the two go down in a pile of limbs, before_ _turning and diving towards Mac. Heart racing. He's not going to be fast enough._

_The barbarian is right on top of Mac, and Jack yells again._

_Mac kicks out his leg, taking everyone by surprise as he sweeps the knees of the unsuspecting goon. Mac twists, snapping his foot against the man's temple as he falls, knocking him out cold._

_Jack drops to his knees next to his partner. Mac flinches in surprise, panting heavily and eyes wide._

_"You okay?"_

_Mac stares blankly at him._

_"Mac?" Jack reaches out, laying a hand against Mac's neck. The kid shudders with the contact. Under his hand, Jack can feel Mac's racing pulse._

_"Can you answer me, bud? You're scaring me."_

_Mac shakes his head, grimacing as a spike of pain surges through his skull. He bites his lip and swallows hard._

_Jack skims his hand over Mac's head, through his hair. Mac flinches when Jack finds a swelling goose egg on the back of his head. His fingers come away red and sticky, he parts Mac's hair to get a better look._

_"You're bleeding, bud," Jack says, eyes soft and worried. "Can you tell me your name?"_

_"Jack," Mac whines._

_"Nope, try again, bud."_

_"Mac," he whispers with an annoyed huff. "I'm okay, Jack. Just dizzy." He swallows hard. "A little nauseous."_

_"You hurting anywhere else except your head?" Jack peels back Mac's eyelids.  
_

_"I don't think so." Mac tries to pull away from Jack's exam.  
_

_"Can you stand if I help you?"_

_Mac groans, reaching out for Jack's hand and missing, before adjusting his reach. "Blurry."_

_Jack hauls him upright. Mac sways dangerous, but keeps his feet under him and his lunch down, as Jack acts as a crutch, steadying Mac.  
_

_"Did you disarm the bomb? Or should I call for back up?"_

_Mac holds up a tangle of wires that he managed to keep a hold on._

_They make a pitstop at Phoenix Med where Mac dozes lightly on an exam table between assessments, a CT scan and a few stitches placed in the back of his head. Jack rests a hip against the table, waiting for the doctor to read Mac's scan before signing off on Mac going home to sleep off what is clearly a doozy of a concussion._

"There are probably easier ways to get a couple of days off around Christmas instead of medical leave, hoss. Though I appreciate the effort." 

Mac smiles sleepily at the rumble of Jack's voice and the soothing motion of Jack's hand in his hair. The motion easing the ache in his head. His blinks slowly, the lights of the tree softly blurring. 

"When I said I wanted a silent night in front of your Christmas tree, this isn't what I had in mind," Jack continues, feeling Mac's head growing heavier against his shoulder. He listens to Mac's breathing deepen, hoping that this time the kid won't startle awake as he has all afternoon.

"All I actually want for Christmas is you to be safe and healthy."


End file.
